Hexed
by UnluckyAmulet
Summary: Jinx's powers were based on fortune, but she had never believed in destiny before. JinxFlash.


Disclaimer: Do not own, blah blah blah.

It's been a while since I've delved into this fandom...also, Kid Flash x Jinx is probably one of the only canon relationships I have a soft spot for. I've always thought Jinx was interesting and for a character who was only in a handful of episodes, both she and Kid Flash work out well together, I think. So I explored her possible background a little.

Enjoy!

* * *

Her first memories are of color.

Fuchsia pink dances at her fingertips when Jinx tries to make them happen, her mind not even forming a coherant command before it happens. Her giggles drown out the shrill screams of adults as she indiscriminately causes shelves to collapse or taps to shoot water like geysers. For her, it is the equivalent of throwing a toy down to the ground and then screaming until it's returned to her; a mindless game. But Jinx soon learns that, although her powers can send people running, they cannot make them come back again. She screams at empty doorways until her throat is raw, her tiny fists punching at the ceiling in frustration.

She is too young to understand that she is doing the impossible, for her, she just makes it happen, like discovering the ability to curl your tongue. A reflex action done to delight and amuse herself. The terror she inspires is completely incidental, but it has far-reaching consequences that the tiny child has no inkling of. When Jinx gets older, she sometimes wonders what her birth name was, but the name "Jinx" was apparently coined so early on in her life that it eclipsed her actual name. She doesn't really care- Jinx suits her more than any dull, pedestrian name could.

But she does still wonder about it, sometimes.

A frustrated infant lies in her crib. After decimating a bookshelf, the woman who was supposed to be feeding her has run out of the room. Jinx is hungry and the sound of her own crying is making her head hurt. She glances up, miserably. The mobile above her winks almost tauntingly as baubles of colored plastic made to look like glass catch the fierce shards of summer sunlight that pour through the brand new blinds, making the white room glitter with colour.

Jinx's face contorts into a fierce scowl and she lets out a shriek of pure outrage and, without even stopping to consider, waves a tiny arm. A crescent of bright pink light flies from her fingertips and shatters the mobile above her. Tiny multi-colored shards rain down on Jinx, who continues screaming.

Nobody comes running.

* * *

She first figures out exactly what it is her problem- _powers, right_- are when she is seven years old.

Jinx is wondering down the grey, unremarkable streets, as she is wont to do, because it's not like there are any adults around who'd actually try to stop her. She passes by a group of teenagers, who are all laughing and talking loudly, seemingly carrying sound and color with them through the otherwise dour city. None of them even glance at this skinny little girl with limp, grimy pink hair and faded, too-big clothing. Jinx watches them leave, resentment burning in her eyes. But she doesn't quite dare engage them by herself. Jinx is learning about limits, and they hang over her like wet clothes, dragging her down and freezing her limbs. She's discovering that no matter how hard she pushes and strains against these invisible restrictions around her, she can never seem to make enough room for herself.

Bitterness floods the small girl's thoughts as she watches the carefree group, carefree, push on. The emotions overwhelm her suddenly, like being stung or being buffeted back by the wind. Without even pausing to think, she shoots a blast of pink in a random direction- she just wants to watch something shatter- and a balcony above a passing elderly couple is suddenly missing a sizeable chunk, and with it a potted plant tumbles down along with the detritus, the soil scattering-midair, sending a shower of earth and ripped petals upon them, the container landing by their feet, the grey plastic almost cracked in two. The two of them stare at the remains of the plant in shock, as if it is something alien. They haven't noticed Jinx, who is watching them from across the street. She's noticed that people do this- either they stare for too long or they pretend she doesn't exist entirely. She isn't sure which she hates more.

"Goodness!" the old man says, prodding a leaf with the tip of his umbrella, as his wife busily brushes dirt off her shoulders, much more distressed than he is. "That was a stroke of bad luck."

His wife makes some consoling comment about how it could have been worse, chivvying him along, but Jinx stares at them, her mouth slightly open as she watches them hurry away, as though they think more stray flowerbeds might come hurtling from the sky.

A slow smile inches across her face. Jinx glances in the mirror, her face suddenly flushed with excitement.

"Bad luck, huh?"

Jinx strolls away, not really headed for home because she doesn't consider it as such- it's merely a place to keep the rain off her head, but for some strange reason, she feels slightly lighter.

* * *

Eventually, of course, Jinx begins to realise something very important.

She is not alone.

As she grows and frightens off more ordinary people, whispers begin to reach her ears of an Academy. Somewhere for people like her, young, powerful and inexperienced. Somewhere that she could learn how to utilize her abilities, instead of committing random acts of destruction out of apathy and frustration. Apparently she is more infamous than she realized, the girl who can cause bad luck, with pink hair and peculiar eyes.

She decides that it's better than nothing. When a mysterious woman known simple as "The Headmistress" contacts her, offering her a place in the Academy, the choice has already been made for Jinx. This, she thinks, is her chance to be something. She'll never be a hero, not with her propensity for destruction and her "powers", but she tells herself she doesn't care. Like many in her situation, feeling as lost and alone as she does, Jinx would give anything, anything at all, to be special.

Jinx secretly hates the way she looks.

She's pale, skinny, pink-haired and, worst of all, _short._

She knows that her intimidation factor lies almost solely in her powers and the total aplomb with which she uses them. It makes her a little resentful. She wants to be a bitchy force of nature, someone that people will cower before. She isn't capable of making people want to love her, so she'll settle for making them fear her instead. She wants bodies to part when she walks through a crowd, not have to use her pointy elbows or kick shins just to get to the front of the pack. So, even though she has her peculiar hair and eye color, Jinx begins the necessary preparations to make herself stand out. She's done with being ignored and passed over, like some insignificant little orphan, which she most definitely is not.

The clothes are pretty simple, the word 'witch' has been thrown at her for as long as she can remember, hissed at her with poison tongues or whispered behind hands, the word designed to hurt where they cannot physically reach. Jinx grins at herself in the mirror as the black dress she tugs over her head. It hugs her waist, which is just as thin as the rest of her, and skims over the rest of her like it doesn't matter she's bony and small. The long sleeves remind her of wings. Stripy tights showcase her skinny, taut legs.

The footwear happened by chance- Jinx was strolling the streets as the sun crept away, dragging its glowing orange tendrils of light with it, and that's when she saw them. Black, big and extremely expensive, a pair of platform boots sat in the window of one of Jinx's favorite spots to window-shop. The skull-like patterns on the front seemed to smirk at her. Jinx smirks back, and with a wave of her hand the glass shatters; a second wave kills the alarm like slitting a throat. The thick, chunky soles add a couple of much-needed inches to her height and her steps feel heavy and purposeful as she strides down the street, enjoying the feel of cool leather seeping through her tights.

It takes her a long time and a lot of practice to walk in her new boots without being terrified of twisting her ankle or breaking her neck, but she manages it. Soon her added height gives her a confident strut. She practices her Cheshire-cat grin, experimenting with just how manic she can make it go. She painstakingly styles her uncooperative pink hair into what start out as pigtails, they become more like horns. Jinx wasn't particularly dismayed- anything to make her look taller.

She looks in the mirror, tilting her head. The choker around her neck highlights the paleness of her skin, the color and shape of her eyes hint at a little unnaturalness. Jinx grins again, enjoying the way it changes her features to something bland and doll-like to ferocious and disconcerting.

Through cosmetic assistance, a smart mouth, lightning-quick reflexes and a streak of ruthlessness that has helped her through many rough nights on the streets, Jinx begins to get noticed. She likes hearing whispers trail behind her as she walks, heads snapping to glance at her before hurriedly turning away again to avoid her cat-like eyes. Somewhere along the way, she gains an alliance with two students, Gizmo and Mammoth. They aren't exactly friends- Gizmo is a brat in a jetpack and Mammoth is a brutish lunk, but they work together well and that's all that matters to Jinx. They practice at night, desperate to impress the Headmistress but not wanting the other teams to see what they're doing and copy them. Jinx in particular is merciless in practice.

"We're gonna get yelled at again for wrecking so many robots." Mammoth remarks, as Jinx walks away from a burning hunk of metal that was one a robot that shot lasers.

"Yeah, and I'm tired! When the barf are we going to get some sleep!"

Jinx snorts.

"When we've got what we want, that's when."

Pleased to see that neither Mammoth or Gizmo have a retort to that, Jinx turns to more advancing machines and laughs.

"Attack pattern Alpha!"

* * *

As a rule, Jinx has always had an appreciation for beautiful things.

This, along with a lonely, cold childhood, is one of the many reasons that Jinx has no qualms with wreaking havoc on Jump City. Without the people, it would be a bland, drab place, just like everywhere else she's ever been. If it can't be beautiful, at least Jinx can liven it up a bit with some destruction. Predictability was so dull; Jinx thrived on the unpredictable. That's what made bad luck so versatile, after all.

She loves the feeling of power being a villain grants her. She isn't a legend yet, not by a longshot, but coordinating daring takeovers of Titans Tower is just the tip of the iceberg. She especially loves intimidating people who, under normal circumstances, would be the ones fully in charge of the situation. Watching their faces rapidly flit from anger or arrogance to horror makes her stomach twist in a way that she interprets as satisfaction. Buildings crumble with a wave of her hand, cars go skidding out of control and fire hydrants explode as she strides past, enjoying the heavy, solid feel of her boots on the concrete.

But the rushes wear off, as they always do.

The truth is, Jinx will do anything to stave off the all-encompassing dull ache that constantly threatens to overwhelm her, looming in the corners of her mind and permeating her mean-spirited grins and sharp tongue. Acts of mindless destruction provide temporary reprieve, like throwing lit matches into the darkness for bursts of light, but the buzz never lasts and Jinx is left searching for a bigger heist, a more elaborate feat to plan. At the Hive Academy, she clings onto any shred of hope sent her way that maybe; _just maybe,_ this could be a stepping stone to something great. Mammoth and Gizmo lack direction, but they'll do for comrades for now. Even Jinx can admit that sometimes she gets...well, lonely.

And when a new student appears at the H.I.V.E, she is surprised to find that she's a little intrigued by him. There is something familiar about him that at first prompts her to push him away, as she has no fond memories of people from her past, but eventually she begins to let him know little things about her here and there. They even go to a dance together, and although Jinx finds the whole thing rather farcical- pretending like it's a _normal_ high school or something- she is slightly surprised at how much fun she has with Stone.

So when the truth comes out, she is less angry and more…disappointed. Just another let down from the untouchable world of good.

"You could have been one of us." She tells Cyborg, who is staring at her with a strange expression. Maybe he's surprised at her sentiment.

"I could have been a lot of things." He answered.

_Good for you._ Jinx thinks, listlessly, as she jumps on the floating platform and, with Brother Blood and those she begrudgingly calls a team, is whisked away.

* * *

Maybe the Stone/Cyborg situation was fate's idea of a joke, or a peculiar practice round of some sorts, because although Jinx's little team (she's always thought of it as _her_ team- Gizmo and Mammoth would be pickpocketing and kicking vending machines without her direction) gains some new members with Kyd Wykkyd, Billy Numerous and See-More, Jinx feels more like their nanny than anything else. Before, she partook in the crime sprees with Gizmo and Mammoth with panache, but these days she's tired of it. She feels like she is outgrowing them, but some peculiar form of attachment compels her to try and pull them forward. See-More is the only one who ever seems to listen to a word she says anymore, and she can tell he has a little crush on her. Part of her wants to be flattered, but she wishes he was listening out of respect over a little infatuation.

And then, everything changed.

First impressions are always important, so Jinx is still left wondering, even now, what it was that made her so interesting to him. Sure, she has an unusual appearance and some useful powers, but she's not Starfire and doesn't have men swooning over her beauty and innocent personality. She knows she's snarky, vicious and mean. Maybe that was the whole point- irresistible to a do-gooder like him.

His superhero reputation means that, when she realizes who he is, she's surprised. He doesn't throw her in jail. He doesn't beat her up. He doesn't even take her stuff- he replaces it. Roses sit in her grey palms, thorns pricking her skin to convince her that they are, in fact, real.

"Need a little luck?"

_Oh, ha ha._

Blue eyes meet hers and she knows, instinctively, they are the sort of eyes that make most girls melt.

Jinx has never been like most girls.

But she finds herself telling him the truth; Being a good guy, being adored and showered with praise and gratitude was never an option for her. She's a witch, a jinx. She curses everyone who gets in her way and is totally remorseless.

She has to keep telling herself she likes it that way.

Her questions, "What will I do? Where will I go?" are just to stall him, but Jinx knows that beneath the sarcasm, she was being serious. The Hive Five would hunt her down, she was sure of it. And yet he remained so confident that he could solve everything.

_It's never too late._

_Let me worry about that._

_Trust me._

He sees through her, and she really doesn't know how to handle that.

And no matter how many flashes of fuchsia bad-luck she throws his way, she can never quite catch him. He simply breezes past her and she wonders what some upstanding young man (jerk) like him is doing, messing around with a walking omen of disaster. She doesn't understand his weird chivalry with her, either. It was like he was too good to be true (his stupid smart-mouth nonwithstanding.)

_"__There's just something different about you. I think you can do better."_

It isn't until Jinx meets Madame Rouge that she finally realizes what Kid Flash meant. Up until that day, Jinx had always looked up to Madame Rouge. Her name was always spoken in furtive tones, as though she could be summoned just by speaking of her too much. She carries herself with poise and a certain regal air that Jinx craves so desperately to have herself.

But when Madame Rouge turns on Jinx, something inside her finally snaps. She is so _sick_ of being pushed aside, of being ignored and not taken seriously. And now, her hero, the woman who proved that even weird, freaky girls could be something great, responded to Jinx by slapping her around…well, talk about broken pedestal. She was really no different from all the other adults who just pushed past the underdog without a second glance. And if Jinx couldn't get Madame Rouge's respect, then she'd just have to get her own.

"I don't care who you are. Nobody messes with me!"

It's ironic that standing up to Madame Rouge is what makes a hint of amused respect glimmer in the older woman's eyes, but Jinx doesn't care anymore. She knows, with a certainty she's never felt before so strongly, that this is a moment of choice.

The rose that rests by her feet stands out marvelously against the grey concrete. The color reminds her of hope.

Jinx picks it up, feeling the smooth, thornless stem beneath her fingers. It occurs to her that this rose has probably come from one of the finest gardens the world has to offer. It would only take him a second to get there and back.

She walks into the glow of the streetlamp and thinks about Kid Flash's blue eyes.

And she feels lucky.


End file.
